Our Visit to the Holy Land

aka, Napa Valley.

Before anyone calls me heretic let me just say everyone has their own way of talking to God and their own way of praying. Mine just happens to involve wine, good times and pretty places.

On our first day in Napa we went black tie Taxi bus and our driver was Otello.
On the bus was Uncle Bob and Maryann, Bubbles and Poppy, Meme, Pat, baby Pat, Uncle Don, Eileen and of course, Ryan and I.
Our first stop was Andretti. I was as unimpressed by the wine as I am by car racing. But it was still pretty. Of course everything in Napa is beautiful. And , regardless, I tasted all the tastings that were poured in my glass. It wasn't even noon and already I was getting silly.


Next on our pilgrimage was Mecca.
Domain Chandon has been a mainstay at all of our celebrations: at our wedding we toasted with White Star and we had so much (thank you Uncle John for the generous gift) left over we toasted all year. Then we toasted at Carmella's birth, Christmas's, Easter's, New Years, 1st birthdays and 30th birthdays and then Beau's birth and we still continue to toast and sometimes roast with Chandon whatever the vintage, whatever the occasion. So really, for me, there is no holier place than Chandon. It is holy water.
Here is me and Meme worshipping at the shrine.

It is a beautiful vineyard. It even smelled divine. The champagne was delicious and I really didn't want to leave.
All I can say is if you go to Napa, don't skip over Chandon. We did buy a special bottle to take home and I can't wait for the occasion to drink it. Maybe my upcoming 35th birthday or maybe our 7 year anniversary?

After leaving Chandon we stopped at Sunshine foods and picked up some yummy edibles and headed for our next winery. By this point I am pretty well beyond silly, sitting in the back of the bus with Uncle Bob and Uncle Don asking them 20 gazillion questions, talking about nothing. What can I say? I'm a talker and despite my regular wine consumption I am still and always will be a light weight.

We stopped at the Reverie winery for lunch. This is an awesome winery with very good wine. I am not much of a red person but we did buy a bottle here as it was excellent. Not to mention they have a couple of hotties employed here to peddle the wine so even if the wine hadn't been good there was still yummy eye candy to be had-- well, for the women, and I suppose, the men too-- depending which way you swing.

I would add this to a definite stopping point of any tour of Napa. They store their wine in a man-made cave--so cool cave effect but not creepy like real caves-- and as you can see from the picture you can have a picinic here. This is ideal on rainy day such as we had. Also, their label, at least what we bought, is called A.S. Kiken, that's right Ass Kick'n wine. Don't ask me why because I 1) did not take notes, 2) was busy staring/not listening to hottie during his tutorial and 3) I was already past my usual limit.

After Reverie I am unclear of the exact order of the next wineries but we visited Ehlers, Merryvale, and Markam--the rock-n-roll winery.
At Ehlers there was a dog named Riley and Bocce ball. I really think Otello took us here so that he could work on his game. I even tossed a ball. It seems like a fun game. Maybe I'll have Ryan put one in the backyard. I think it would be a great addition to Beaupalooza III.

This is the whole group in front of Merryvale.

We had dinner at the Rutherford Grill and 4 of us ate the most expensive ribs in the whole world but they were damn good. So if ever in Napa and you want ribs go to Rutherford Grill.

The next day we did much of the same but we drove ourselves. We tasted my favorite wine at Cakebread. The winery wasn't all that much to look at but I guess with wine that good you don't have to do a lot to try and sell it. We brought a bottle back for my mom and her eyes about popped out of her head. The reserve chardonnay is amazing and they told us you can't buy it in stores. I am hoping when she pops that bottle she invites me over for a glass (hint hint).

We also visited:
Plumpjack It was fun and quirky and the wine was good but mostly reds and like I said, I don't drink a lot of red so I passed on buying. Plus, what I liked was a bit pricey.




We stopped and lunched at Cuvasion. Again we got lunch at Sunshine Foods. I think Poppy bought some wine from here and we drank it at lunch. It was very good too.




Close Pegase.
I really wasn't impressed by the wine here but it is definitely worth the visit if you like art. They have some amazing pieces.This sculpture is by Henry Moore.

The building and the landscaping were equally impressive.


I don't know who did the Thumb sculpture but it did seem familiar to me. I was drawn to it because I have always likened my body shape to that of a thumb. I am not a pear. I am not an apple. I am a thumb. I have actually been told this. Notice the similarities?

Peju had amazing gardens, grounds and a beautiful tasting building.
This was the last vineyard we visited in Napa.



I felt like I was in the room of a castle.

I think this should be Meme's and Pat's Christmas picture.


After our tour of the wineries we sucked it up for an adult evening out in downtown Napa. We had dinner at Celadon and then danced at Joe's.
Our evening was cut short because Pat decided that he had the Natalie Holloway case all figured out and we must leave immediately as Meme and I were in great danger. It had something to do with the bartender ringing a bell and the free shots that someone bought Meme and I. It was a weird scene but nothing dire.

So, I think we had a fun trip. Since being back I do get the shakes around 1pm because I no longer start drinking before noon. It has been a tough adjustment but I'll manage.

On Patrol with the Tree Geeks

Ryan and his brother are flora and fauna nerds. Every vacation involves a lot of plant conversation and tree photos. They fondle the leaves, admire the stems and ask me to get out of the way so they can get a good picture of the bark.
We only spent Friday and Saturday in San Francisco. So just two days with a rehearsal dinner and a 3 o' clock Catholic wedding cushioning our sight seeing. We definitely did not get to take in as much as might have liked.

Saturday I got up early to run a 10K in the Golden Gate park with Poppy. The race was put on by a local running club and was really low key. Or was suppose to be and maybe it was. Unfortunately, we never found the race. Our map for the park lacked the necessary street name of the start/finish and we just couldn't figure out exactly which unnamed street it was. So we made up our own course. I won and I ran further. We still did about 6-7 miles so I feel good about it.
I may hate flying to California but I love running there. I totally dig the no humidity and the perfect 60 degree weather. And I especially loved running through the Golden Gate Park. What an amazing park. Just WOW!

After my run I met up with the tree geeks and Meme and we toured the Tea Gardens and wandered about until starvation forced us to cab it to the Wharf for some lunch. We even saw a little Tai Chi on our way out of the park-- which I totally do not get but was still interesting to watch. I can't believe whole groups of people do this outside in public for anyone to watch. Show-offs.

Ryan took some pretty neat pictures of the Tea Gardens. I really wish we had had more time to see the other gardens in the park. There is a flower conservatory, which I felt pretty certain there would be some cool orchids in that I would have loved seeing. Not to mention the Shakespeare Garden that I ran past but was too nervous to venture in alone. As a woman runner I get skeeved out about desolate places. I need cars and people and well traveled roads to feel safe. Sadly, no trail marathons for me.
Sunday we left San Francisco but not before I got to try Dim Sum. I am not a breakfast food lover. I do not like eggs. At all. Blech! And since almost all breakfast/brunch foods seems to revolve around the egg I am often S.O.L. So Dim Sum was a nice change for me. I got to eat something other than cereal. This is a breakfast I can get on board with: shrimp and pork and vegetables wrapped up in a dumpling! Yum!

After breakfast and some requisite Bridge pictures we drove on to Napa but not before stopping in Muir Woods to placate the tree geeks.
Having grown up in the South and because I am too well acquainted (meaning visually bored to death) with the fauna and foliage of the Appalachian I am always enamored by the Northwest forests along the coast. I say forests because to me forest is a magical word and the woods in Oregon, Northern California and Washington seem magical to me. They are conjuring places. Places that I think hobbits, fairies and brownies could really live. Tolkien comes to life here, I am certain.


I felt these woods were so magical that I chose to listen to my ipod rather than the commentary from the tree geeks. I felt other worldly. And yes it may have been the Anchor Steams we enjoyed at our lunch in Tiburon. But know that Cold Play and Pavement and World Party proved wonderful companions on my stroll through Muir Woods.


Muir Woods made me wish that I did live right outside of San Francisco-- maybe in Tiburon or Sausilito, and that I wasn't scared and that I was a trail runner. Sigh. Maybe in another life. And in that life, maybe I wouldn't even wear my ipod and would let my rhythmic breathing and the sound of my quiet footfall echoing in the forest motivate me rather than the tunes in my head.

San Francisco and the Phantom Bag

Let me just put it out there, in case there is any doubt, that I am not an easy flyer. Just the very idea of being on plane makes me feel ill, really. And actually being on a plane without my kids? Well that reduces me to a state of pure panic where I sob uncontrollably in front of strangers at the slightest bump. Oddly enough though, I actually do better flying with my kids because I am so distracted by trying to make them behave and not embarrass the hell out of me before we all go down in a fiery crash. See I care that the strangers on the plane might think I am a bad mother with uncontrollable kids, however I do not care if they think I am paranoid freak.

The night before we left I was up until 2 am packing and then got up at 4 am to finish and get dressed so we could catch our 8 am flight. Ryan, the bastard, went to bed around midnight. Basically right after I finished helping him pack. Then he slept an extra hour while I cleaned up the house and made sure nothing was forgotten.

The guys dropped Meme, baby Pat and I off at the curb with more than half our luggage while they went and parked the car. The sky cap was rushing and wasn't paying attention. At one point he tagged our bags with the wrong destination and then made Meme unpack and redistribute one of her bags because it was overweight. Then he gave me Ryan's boarding pass without Ryan even being there. So much for tight security at Hartsfield. I gave it back to him and explained that Ryan wasn't with me. It was a very confusing and hectic check in.

The flight was very bumpy and we were in turbulence for over an hour. After about 10 minutes of trying to be brave and ignore it I just laid my head down and cried until I couldn't cry anymore. Ryan, use to flying with me just ignored me. Bubbles passed tissues to me from across the aisle. In retrospect, I probably should have had a bloodymary or something to take the edge off before ever getting on the plane.

We did land safely and Ryan left with his Dad to get the car. By this point I am so tired and confused and have 5 tickets for luggage taped on my boarding pass. I get three of our bags but the fourth bag, the one with our shoes, never comes through. I have meltdown. Not the shoes!!! Any bag but the one with my shoes (and Ryan's too for that matter.) Everyone else has their luggage and is ready to go. I see a million black bags that I think look like mine but none are mine. I report my missing bag and am assured that it will come through today if not tomorrow. I am unconvinced, having had my bags lost in the past, and again I sob in the car that all of my shoes are gone, or at the least are still sitting at Hartsfield.

We drop our bags off at the hotel and go to have lunch at the Wharf and sight see. I spend the afternoon crying off and on over my lost shoes. I cried: while at lunch at Tarantinos; I cried while on the sidewalk laughing at Bushman scaring the shit out of tourists by attacking them with his fake bush. Basically, I cried as we trekked all over San Francisco taking in the sights and the sounds-- all, of which I did, in my little red kitten heel slides. Shoes that are cute and that were comfortable on the plane but proved not so great for walking up and down nosebleed hills.

Finally, taking mercy on my feet, Ryan agreed to buy me some new running shoes. After that I am happy. At that point my thinking is that at least I have shoes I can walk in and run my 10k in the morning and, if need be, my little red shoes will match 2 of the outfits I brought with me. I am good til the wedding. I begin to relax a little. What can I say? I am woman who likes to have her stuff--especially her shoes.


We finally get back to the hotel room and start getting dressed for the rehearsal dinner. I have decided to put the missing bag behind me and enjoy my trip. I am wearing the shoes from the plane and my little black dress. Not my ideal outfit but I can live with it. Ryan, however, can't find any socks and again I start cursing the lost bag.
Your socks, I tell him, they are in the lost bag.
While searching he opens one of the 3 bags we do have. The one we have yet to open. It is full of shoes.
Ryan asks, confused, "Honey, what shoes are in the other bag?"
I gasp.
And suddenly I realize there is no 4th bag. The fog that has clung to my brain starts to lift a bit.
We only had 3 bags! I happily exclaim to Ryan, who still is confused and puzzled over just how many shoes did I pack?
Just those shoes. In that bag, I assure him. There is no 4th bag! I excitedly tell him.

Yes, I packed 5 bags but 2 of those, both black, went to my Mom's with the kids. It is all clear to me now. The black bag I remember checking at the curb was Meme's and Ryan checked our other bag when he checked in. The skycap just gave me extra tickets for bags that do not exist, maybe the ones he tagged wrongly. I don't know. I didn't care. I was just so damn happy to have all my shoes! My vacation was saved!

Ryan is totally convinced that his wife has completely lost her mind but I like to think this was a learning experience for him: Don't leave it up to your wife to pack all the bags while you snooze away.

So, after a rocky start in San Francisco the rest of the trip went pretty smoothly and I got new running shoes out of it: Brooks Adrenaline. They are awesome.

Here are some pictures from the rehearsal dinner and wedding.

The rehearsal dinner was at the stadium. So we took a tour of the stadium .Meme and I really regretted the tour once we ran out of our cocktail. Also, for the record, Sonoma-Cutrer does not taste good in a plastic cup.

That's Uncle Don in the broadcaster's booth. This is also where Meme and I dished gossip and tried to figure out how we could sneak out of the tour. She actually did but I went back for Ryan and got busted.

This is me and Meme being one of the boys in the Giant's Dugout. (Note the cute shoes)

Pat and Ryan at dinner: rosey cheeked Irish boys if ever there were.

The wedding was at Old St. Mary's Cathedral.


The flower girls were Lindsay and Natalie. True little angels. They were so well behaved and are both just a few months older than Carmella and Beau. I cannot tell you how jealous I was. No way would Beau have sat quietly through a Catholic ceremony. Carmella, yes. Beau, no way.

After the wedding, outside on the street, tourists were stopping to take pictures of the wedding party


This is Ryan's grandmother here with the bride-- Ryan's cousin Katie, the groom Kevin, and Ryan's aunt, Maryann. Grandma Virginia is royalty according to Carmella. She absolutely adores her and was pretty mad after she found out that Grandma Virginia was on this trip and she wasn't invited.
Grandma Virginia cut a serious rug at the reception. I wish we had pictures but we were all too busy dancing our asses off to take pictures.
The reception was at the hotel. Here Katie and Kevin have their first dance.
Bubbles and her sisters, Patricia and Eileen and cousin Jenny. The men are Uncle John, Uncle Don and Poppy.

Ryan and I enjoying ourselves.

After that there was a lot of champagne and a lot of dancing til late into the night and as a result I have no more pictures of the evening.